


the sweetest life you've ever seen

by thegrayness



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Cake, M/M, Slow Dancing, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: A glimpse of David and Patrick cutting the cake at their wedding reception.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 15
Kudos: 169





	the sweetest life you've ever seen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DelphinaBoswell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelphinaBoswell/gifts).



> Love you DB!!!! 
> 
> Thanks to TINN for beta and Neely and Liz for a lotta support. 
> 
> The title is from a pretty obscure Barry Manilow song (from his 1973 debut album _Barry Manilow_ ) called Sweet Life. :D You’re welcome for the knowledge.

Aside from marrying the love of his life, the only thing David’s been able to focus on all day is their wedding cake. One of their vendors recommended the baker, and the cake tasting alone sent David into an orgasmic haze and/or sugar coma that Patrick happily reminds him about whenever he gets the chance. 

Their wedding is small, so they only get two tiers, and Patrick graciously lets David pick the flavor of the bigger tier. David loves him a lot. 

David picks a vanilla cake with lemon curd and Patrick picks chocolate cake with raspberry jam and David can’t stop thinking about it. 

Patrick’s kept David on the dance floor most of the evening, swaying the two of them slowly no matter what song is playing. After they finish sharing the third glass of champagne Alexis brings them, Patrick deposits their empties on a table as he sweeps them past. He wraps his arms all the way around David’s waist. 

“Have I told you that you look _stunning_ today?” He says with a grin. It’s cheeky, and it’s the third time he’s asked and it probably won’t be the last, and David wraps his own arms around Patrick’s neck.

“Only a few times, and I’d _so_ love to hear it again—several times if you’re so inclined—”

Patrick kisses him then, and he tastes like champagne, and it makes David smile against his lips. It ruins the kiss, but Patrick’s answering smile makes David’s stomach swoop. He remembers that they just got married, and kisses Patrick again. 

“You ready for cake?” Patrick asks when he pulls back a few moments later. They’re cheek-to-cheek in the middle of the cafe, and David can feel the warmth and pressure of Patrick’s hand as it presses against his back. Patrick swings him around, and he gets a glimpse of the beautifully-styled two-tiered dream at the back of the room. 

“Mmm,” David hums, brushing his lips against the shell of Patrick’s ear. “ _Very_ ready for cake.”

Patrick lets out a throaty laugh and squeezes David's hand where it rests between them. “Come on,” he murmurs, stepping back and pulling David along to where Stevie is now standing by the cake table. 

They cut the cake, and Twyla plates two slices for them—one from each tier—even though Patrick insists that he can put cake on a plate. “We are taking a single small bite, Patrick,” David reminds him, because if Patrick gets cake on David’s wedding look, he’s—well let’s just not.

Patrick nods in understanding, smirking a little, which David does not care for at all. “Of course,” Patrick agrees and David narrows his eyes. He doesn’t make extra sure, though because Patrick is breaking off a small piece and gathering it onto his fork. 

David follows suit, and they manage a somewhat-tandem cake feeding without stabbing each other in the chin or cheek. They pause for a moment so Ray can direct them into two (David made Ray promise only _two_ ) previously selected poses for photographs. Once everyone returns to their own merriment, David immediately dips his fork into the cake on Patrick’s plate and helps himself to another bite of the lemon. It’s refreshing and sweet and aromatic, and the frosting is creamy and smooth and buttery. David flutters his eyes back open once he’s done chewing. 

“Did you want me to leave so you can be alone with the cake?” Patrick teases, taking the plate in David’s hand and giving David the plate with his flavor.

David swallows a third bite. “I know you’re joking, but I would absolutely like to be alone with this cake—as long as you’re fine opening up our marriage to a vanilla bean and lemon treat.”

“Oh, is that what’d happen?” Patrick asks with a grin, pulling David in by the waist. David is still holding the plate between them. 

“Are _you_ made of decadent, tangy lemon curd and rich, voluptuous, vanilla bean cake?” David says, taking another bite, enjoying the way Patrick ducks his head and flushes down his neck.

“I could be,” Patrick answers, lifting his head to pout up at David. 

David smirks and puts his plate—which still has cake on it, David would like on the record—on the cake table, lifting his arms to wrap around Patrick’s shoulders and brushing his fingers through the back of his hair. “Aw, honey, I love you very much, and I’m thrilled to spend the rest of my life as your husband—” he leans in to press a soft kiss to Patrick’s pout, which morphs into a dreamy smile “—but I happen to know for a fact that you’re not made of a light and fluffy dessert.” 

Patrick pouts again, so David leans in and kisses him again, moving in close so they’re pressed together from chest to hip. Patrick tightens his arms, slips a hand under the bottom of David’s suit jacket. 

“Okay, people really want the cake, can you take this somewhere else,” Stevie says, raising her voice to be heard over the music. 

David pulls away and shoots her a glare. “I think we should be allowed to make out wherever we please at our _wedding reception_ ,” he snaps, and Patrick rubs his hands up and down David’s back to soothe him.

“Come on, David. Let’s dance some more. We can make out on the dance floor again.”

Stevie rolls her eyes and shoos them away.

“Damn right we can and we _will_ ,” David mutters, trailing behind his husband. 

  
  



End file.
